CHAPTER XXIII.
"It's just right," said Grief.
"It isn't quite cool enough," said Wrinkles.
"Well, I guess I know the proper temperature for claret." "Well, I guess you don't.

If it was buttermilk, now, you would know, but you can't tell anything about claret." Florinda ultimately decided the question.

"It isn't quite cool enough," she said, laying her hand on the bottle.

"Put it on the window ledge, Grief." "Hum! Splutter, I thought you knew more than----" "Oh, shut up!" interposed the busy Pennoyer from a remote corner.

"Who is going after the potato salad?
That's what I want to know.